


Dancing Dirty (for You)

by Xyriath



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, But other than that it's pretty fluffy I swear, M/M, Past Abuse, Potential references to past self-harm/suicide, To be clear they're not discussed but some content may be triggering in that fashion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 01:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1247785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyriath/pseuds/Xyriath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jim Kirk takes a job as a bartender for Leonard McCoy's bar and club, he gets a lot more than he was expecting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing Dirty (for You)

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of meekobits's wonderful [Stripper Bones AU](http://meekobits.tumblr.com/tagged/stripper-bones), in particular these [two](http://meekobits.tumblr.com/post/77834441286/have-i-told-you-how-much-i-love-it-when-you-wear%22) [pictures](http://meekobits.tumblr.com/post/77868927996/jim-is-that-you-yeah-not-that-im).
> 
> Also written because [Kitten](http://archiveofourown.org/users/catherinarose) really wanted me to.

He wouldn't look, he told himself as he finished pouring the two drinks, smiling brilliantly as he handed off the grey goose martini to one man and the White Russian to another. He wasn't going to look.

It had become a game, at this point, how long he could tell himself that. He flashed another grin and collected a tip, tucking it into his pocket, snatching up a couple of empty glasses and setting them in the washer, trying not to listen as the music played and the crowd cheered. Of course, resolutions like that never lasted long.

Jim swallowed and risked a look up.

Bones had peeled the vest nearly completely off by now, his hips rocking with the music as the cloth slid down his arms, hitting the floor with a noise that was swallowed up by the sound in the bar. At this point, Jim knew that Bones chose the lighting of the club intentionally, the golds and deep reds flattering    his tanned skin, flickering and emphasizing the stark eyeliner, shaped perfectly, as he slid his hands down his ribs.

Jim licked his lips as Bones's fingers traced across his stomach, down to his abdomen, brushing the line of hair that trailed down from his navel and disappeared into his pants—which he was now unbuttoning.

Jim—and nearly the entire bar with him—leaned forward as Bones toyed with the zipper, sliding it down with an action that seemed to take hours. Jim's breath caught as Bones hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, sliding his pants slowly down his hips. He wouldn't pull them all the way down—he never did—but that didn't stop him or anyone else from—

Bones's head turned, an effortless part of the dance, it seemed, but with the movement he met Jim's eyes directly. Jim caught Bones's lips curling up in a smirk before he jerked his head away, feeling his cheeks grow hot.

He could hear Bones continuing to dance, the applause and music indicators of when something got truly interesting, but he continued to look away determinedly. He was there to serve drinks, not ogle the owner, so he continued the former and tried not to think about the latter, a smile plastered on his face.

The smile eased into something more genuine as he continued serving, pouring his attention into the bartending. The music eventually stopped, the cheering enough to tell Jim exactly how well the dance had gone. Jim just chuckled and shook his head.

His smile, however, again turned a bit more forced with a particular customer who had been a bit overfriendly before, but now that the dance had ended, had turned his entire attention to unwanted flirtations in his direction. Several polite refusals had failed to deter the man, and Jim nearly spilled the drink he was serving when the man made his intentions of taking Jim home clear. He simply gritted his teeth, debating spitting in the next beer the man ordered.

"Somethin' the matter, Jim?"

Jim's head snapped up at the familiar drawl, and his eyes settled on Bones, chest still heaving slightly from the dance, who was now leaning onto the bar, rather close to the problem patron. Close enough for said patron to see the muscle definition in Bones's arms and the threatening way he flexed them.

"I'm all right, Bones," Jim murmured, trying to hide a smile as the man set down the payment for his drink and inched away from the two of them. "Thanks."

Bones grinned at him. "No problem, kid. How about a free drink?" he drawled, batting his eyelashes. "The usual."

Jim rolled his eyes and tried not to laugh—it was Bones's alcohol, after all—as he poured him a couple fingers of Kentucky Bourbon, handing it over.

"Thankya, darlin'. Need somethin' after that show." He nodded at Jim, then leaned back on the bar and sipped slowly, eyes examining the crowd lazily. Jim began to wipe up condensation rings with a towel as he covertly watched Bones, watched the muscles in his throat contract as he swallowed. Bones was still sweaty from the dancing, and Jim found himself hypnotized by the way the jewelry around his neck moved with him.

His memory slipped to earlier, when he had had a much closer view of the jewelry. Bones had still been shirtless, but hadn't been out of breath in the slightest, as the club had been practically empty. Jim just remembered laughing as Bones tugged him onto the dance floor, leading him through a sloppy waltz, then dipped him backwards, hooking a hand under his thigh and bringing it up to press against his hip.

"Have I told you how much I love it when you wear blue?" he murmured, face inches—maybe even not that far—from Jim's.

Jim didn't remember if he had shaken his head or not. He just remembered Bones's face slowly coming closer, his nose brushing Jim's briefly before Jim had come to and jerked backwards.

"You okay, kid?"

Bones's voice jerked Jim's back to the present, his hazel eyes resting on Jim's face in concern.

"What? Yeah." Jim felt himself flush as he realized he had been wiping the same spot on the bar for a while now. "I just…" He swallowed, glancing away, then back at Bones.

He wanted… to do _something_. Say something. He didn't know exactly what, but…

But there were too many people watching. "I just have to get back to the customers. Sorry." He turned away and tossed the towel in the linen bin, snatching some more dirty glasses.

At the end of the night, he cleaned and closed in record time, and was out of there before Bones could realize he was gone.

—

The early afternoon meant that the bar's sign wasn't yet lit, but he knew there were others inside. Jim stared up at the sign, shivering slightly. It wasn't that cold—wasn't really cold at all—but this was the first time Jim had worn short sleeves that he could remember, and it wasn't exactly a pleasant feeling.

But it wasn't going to get any better standing out here. He took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

Gaila, one of the few inside, spotted him immediately from across the room. "Leeeeo! Got someone here for you!"

Jim winced. He had been hoping to keep his presence relatively low-key. He jogged towards the back, where the private rooms and stairs were, knowing that Bones was probably in that area. He'd like to keep this private, if possible.

Of course, he was so intent on speed and secrecy that he nearly ran face-first into the 200 something odd pounds of strip joint owner when rounding the corner.

"Woah there!" Bones reached an arm out to grab Jim's shoulder and steady himself, right as Jim lifted his hands in front of them to prevent the collision.

"Jim… is that you?" Bones's eyes widened as they swept down across his arms, taking in the sight of the scars, withdrawing his hands when he did. Jim flinched.

They were a mess. He knew that. Twisting knots of poorly-healed skin, thinner scars in stark-white straight lines, of varying lengths and in varying directions. A jagged depression from where he had been pushed into a table. Dark, circular blemishes on the skin that definitely weren't acne scars.

"Yeah." Jim swallowed. This had been a terrible idea. He should have known better. This was it, the moment Leonard McCoy stepped back and told him all of his interest had just been a joke.

But when he looked up into Bones's face, he didn't see revulsion and disgust. Only a flicker of—of understanding, and compassion.

"Not that I'm complaining, but don't you have classes—"

Jim leaned in, not knowing exactly where he was going to touch Bones, but knowing that he wanted the contact desperately. He might have once been embarrassed that he was touching Bones's bare chest and side, but that didn't seem to matter right now.

"Jim?"

Jim swallowed, trying to form words. "…Hi."

Oh, god, could he have sounded _more_ like an idiot?

"Hi."

And it didn't help that Bones had tentatively placed his hand on Jim's waist, then reached out to rest his other on Jim's shoulder again. It hadn't been from revulsion, the withdrawal. He had just been terrified of hurting Jim.

"Can I kiss you?" Jim couldn't look at Bones when the words tumbled out, instead focusing on somewhere near his abdomen. He was still shaking slightly, he realized.

"Darlin'," Bones breathed, and the tenderness in his voice made Jim's chest ache. "You don't ever have to ask that."

Jim managed to look up then, eyes wide as he took in the soft smile on Bones's face. He nearly said something, but didn't trust any words that might come out of his mouth.

Instead, he reached up and took Bones's face, tugging it down to his.

Their lips met and Jim closed his eyes. Bones's lips were softer than he had imagined, but he didn't find that too surprising. Bones slid his arm fully around Jim's waist, tugging him in closer, and Jim obliged, pressing Bones back up against the wall.

After a moment, Bones broke the kiss, pulling back slightly and resting his forehead against Jim's. Jim opened his eyes, glancing up to see that Bones was smirking.

"Took you long enough," he murmured.

"Shut up," Jim snapped, sounding more like Bones than he was comfortable with as he grabbed his face and tugged it down again.


End file.
